Review by Frank Plowright

The Elegant Courtly Life of the Tea Witch is exactly as the title describes, and as such it’s a series one can’t really imagine being considered for publication anywhere other than Japan, and yet this translated version hits the spot by retaining the charm, interest and obsession with small procedures. There’s another reason one can’t imagine this being sanctioned for publication as an original series anywhere other than Japan, but we’ll come to that.

Shtora is the enchanted kingdom, but within recent memory that hasn’t always been the case. Until the princess was born twelve years ago there was war, and now a council of mages, each with a different magical power, maintains a fragile peace. Remy Pullus is one of them, but prefers to confine herself to the King’s kitchen rather than deal with matters of state. Besides which, her magical ability is only that of making a perfect cup of tea. What the other council members don’t realise is how the definition of “perfect” can be applied. At the very simplest end of the scale Remy heats the water to the exact temperature required to bring out the best flavour from a variety of tea ingredients. However, if someone requires a tea to pep them up, or give them courage, she can achieve that, but keeps it secret. She’s happy enough with the other mages appreciating her basic skill, but looking down on her.

The fly in the ointment is the princess, who wants Remy to be her friend, and her regular kitchen visits and casual manner with Remy are beginning to draw unwanted attention.

From the editorial pages at the back it seems artist Yorifuji is adapting a story written by Ameko Kaerudo, and it’s one of considerable subtlety. Remy’s concern for a withdrawn and unambitious life is documented early and small little touches either disrupt or feed into that life, the former generating quiet crises. Yorifuji draws Remy as enigmatic, generally subservient, but when carried away by the intricacies of her trade as per the sample art she can seem as powerful as she actually is.

For all the charm, there’s a disturbing undercurrent to The Elegant Courtly Life of the Tea Witch. It’s common enough in Japanese comics that people aren’t drawn to resemble the age they are, so spring and autumn romances aren’t always what they may seem. However, we’re told the princess is twelve, and she behaves in a manner consistent with that by not respecting boundaries and having romantic fantasies. That’s not the problem. The problem is a society where she’s expected to marry the adult Captain of the Guard at her age. Perhaps it’ll be necessary for the story in the future, but here it comes across as gratuitously shocking to readers. At least Remy is repulsed by the idea.

That apart, The Elegant Courtly Life of the Tea Witch retains its attraction throughout, introducing other characters with small magic specialities, and some far grander. There’s a revelation about the extent of Remy’s capabilities and the final chapter reveals that perhaps palace security isn’t as absolute as might be desired.

Action is minimal and conversations maximised, but intrigue is high, and the surprises thoughtful and shocking. On to Vol. 2.